


Disclosure

by SpecialHell



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, No character bashing, Not Canon Compliant, Team as Family, Trauma Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 09:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecialHell/pseuds/SpecialHell
Summary: A mission doesn't go to plan. [Bucky trauma-recovery]





	Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: if you don't like Tony or Nat, this story isn't for you.

The mood was subdued in the jet back to the compound. Everyone was dirty, bloody, and exhausted. The silence was broken upon landing by Sam taking Steve’s elbow, a concerned crease to his brow. 

“You sure you don’t need a hospital?”

Steve turned a tired but fond smile on his friend. “I’ll be ok; the butterflies Nat put on it are holding up, and it’s already healing.”

“Ok, but,” Sam glanced around at everyone before lowering his voice, as if to shield them from the memory. “You did get stabbed.”

“It stopped bleeding before we even got to the jet,” Steve’s tone was placating. “Give it a week and there won’t even be a scar.”

“Alright,” Sam conceded, before turning to survey the weary faces of the others. “Think you can do without me? I need to go home and get some paperwork done.”

“We’ll be fine, Wilson,” Clint clapped him on the shoulder. “But you need to sleep when you get home. Paperwork can wait.”

Sam bit back the sarcastic retort: he couldn’t deny the concern of others when he was the biggest worrier of all himself. Instead he gave a short nod before disembarking the jet and heading straight for the parking garage.

The rest of the team stepped off the jet and wordlessly peeled off to their own areas. Natasha was helping Clint; whose left wrist and right ankle were sprained. Tony disappeared by himself, leaving just Steve and Bucky in the hangar. Bucky hadn’t spoken since they’d regrouped at the mission site, and it seemed he wasn’t ready to start yet. Steve didn’t want to push so instead he headed towards their quarters, trusting that Bucky would follow.

 

After cleaning up and changing, Steve brought Bucky down to the common area for something to eat. Clint and Natasha were already there; the former eating cereal while the latter sipped on herbal tea. Steve gave them both a small smile as he moved towards the fridge. There was take-out from last night, and Steve decided that would be good enough. He pulled out the containers and set about reheating those that were safe to do so.

There was a soft noise of something being set on the counter, but the following clatter of porcelain followed by deathly silence is what drew Steve’s attention. He turned around to see what was going on. The first thing he saw was the look on Natasha’s face - it was fear, fury, shame, and something he couldn’t pinpoint, and it made his blood run cold. He followed her gaze to where Bucky was standing. His arms were behind his back, like some kind of parade rest that shot ice through Steve’s heart. On the counter was his tactical knife. The one he was never without, even when it seemed impossible for him to be hiding it. Steve didn’t know what was happening, but he knew it was bad.

Before Steve could react, Natasha was across the kitchen and holding Bucky’s knife to his throat. Clint stopped Steve from responding with a hand on his arm and a shake of his head. Bucky was unresponsive to the threat, and Steve’s heart hammered in his chest.

“You do not present your weapon to anyone, ever again. Do you understand me?” Nat’s voice was shaking as she spoke, and Bucky’s eyes flicked to hers. The conviction in her expression was readable from across the room, so Steve didn’t dare think how it looked from Bucky’s angle. When Bucky nodded - a single, short movement, his eye’s never leaving Nat’s - Natasha stepped back. She placed the knife down with deliberate care, before turning her back on Bucky. Steve wasn’t sure if it was a snub or an acceptance, until he saw Bucky’s shoulders relax. Natasha was showing him trust with the gesture, and Bucky was grateful. Clint moved from Steve’s side and rested his good hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“We don’t do it like that here, ok pal?” Bucky looked at Clint but didn’t reply. “The worst you’ll have to deal with is Tony’s complaining and some disappointed glares from Fury - but that’s only if you screw something up. You didn’t do anything wrong today.”

Steve could see in Bucky’s eyes that he wanted to argue. He clenched his jaw and looked over to Steve, who tried to arrange his face into something comforting. Luckily, Clint seemed able to read Bucky’s expression, because he kept talking.

“Listen, if you feel guilty every time one of us knuckleheads gets ourselves hurt, you’ll never feel another emotion again. We’re all dumb and reckless and injuries happen. You’re not responsible for keeping us unscathed - just for keeping us alive.” Steve got the feeling this might be a speech Clint has given before, and his eyes fell on Nat, who was standing apart from them all with a haunted look in her eyes. Steve stepped over to her and allowed his fear to show.

“What was that? This?” Steve gestured to encompass the last ten minutes of their lives. He knew Bucky could hear him where he stood, but he was willing to pretend otherwise if it made things easier for any of them.

“An act of contrition. For failure.” Natasha wasn’t making eye contact with anyone, and the tense silence from behind them told Steve he was the only one hearing this for the first time. “Presenting your weapon to your handler is an acknowledgement that your life is not yours. That the consequences for disappointment will be accepted without question. Usually a handler will take the weapon away from you for a while - it’s a punishment, so you always present your favourite weapon. Sometimes…” Natasha took a breath, and Steve closed his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t want to hear this; both for what it would reveal about Nat’s past, and what it would confirm about Bucky’s. “If you fail badly enough, your weapon can be used against you. Handlers rarely kill; it’s a waste of resources, but they have ways of making sure you remember your mistake.”

Steve hadn’t realised he was holding onto one of the stools at the counter until he felt the metal bend under his grip. He opened his eyes, releasing his hold, and stepped closer to Nat. He could see hesitance in her eyes, but she didn’t resist when he pulled her into a soft hug. He didn’t say anything; wouldn’t know where to start, but the feel of Nat’s hands on his back was acceptance enough. When he pulled away, Steve looked down to see open trust in Natasha’s expression, and he smiled.

“You should get some rest,” he whispered. They parted, and Nat tilted her head towards Clint in a silent request. He moved towards her and gave Steve a sympathetic look along the way. Whatever Steve was about to go through with Bucky, Clint had already done with Natasha. It was a comfort to know it was survivable. As Natasha and Clint left, Steve turned towards Bucky. He hated seeing the fear in those steely eyes. Stepping close, Steve gathered Bucky up in a hug and pressed a kiss to his temple. Bucky relaxed in shuddering stages.  
“Let’s take the food to the sofa,” Steve whispered. “We could watch a movie?” 

There was a long moment of silence before Bucky’s mumbled response. “Nothing with Nazis.”

“Agreed,” Steve pulled away just far enough to retrieve the food before he herded Bucky towards the living area. While Bucky was still subdued, his lips quirked at the way Steve was sticking close.

 

Steve was flicking through the options on the TV with Bucky curled up against him when Tony arrived, sucking on a smoothie. 

“What are we watching?” He asked around the straw, throwing himself onto the end of the sofa and resting his legs in Steve’s lap. His toes brushed against Bucky’s leg where it was resting on Steve’s, and Tony stopped sucking when he felt Bucky tense up. “What did I miss?”

“Bucky’s upset about the mission,” Steve said when it became clear Bucky wasn’t going to speak.

“What’s to be upset about?” Tony asked, putting his smoothie down. “We got the intel _and_ we got to blow something up. That’s a good day at the office.” Bucky shot Tony a disbelieving look, which made Tony laugh and soothed Steve’s nerves. “Look; one thing you need to remember when you’re on this team, is that the plan is always ‘Get in, Get out, Don’t die,’ - everything else is just window dressing so the Men in Black will greenlight the mission. I know it can feel like you’ve traded Hydra for SHIELD, but us? The Avengers? We play by our own rules. We just let the suits think they’re in control, because it makes them feel better.”

The angry little anarchist inside Steve jumped at the declaration, and he could feel Bucky relaxing too. Tony wiggled further down on the sofa, his feet now firmly pressed against Bucky’s thigh, and reached for the remote in Steve’s hand.

“How about a musical?” Tony asked. Bucky shifted his thigh over Tony’s feet, trapping the undoubtedly cold toes between two chunks of supersoldier. Tony didn’t react, but Steve’s heart was doing somersaults.

“Something light,” Steve contributed.

“Ok, so no Les Mis,” Tony flicked through the options.

“Disney,” Bucky spoke up.

“Tangled?” Tony asked, eyes flicking towards the two and back to the screen. Steve looked down at Bucky, whose head was pillowed on his shoulder.

“Maybe something with less kidnapping?”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky looked at Steve, the troubled cloud having lifted from his expression.

“I do,” Steve admitted.

“Oooh!” Tony stopped scrolling. “Princess and the Frog! I love this one.”

“Put it on,” Bucky said on a yawn. Steve wasn’t sure either of them would make it through the movie.

“Just so you know; nobody will be judged for crying over a firefly here.”

Steve chuckled at that, his hand absently running up and down Bucky’s arm where it rested on his chest. Tony started the movie. Music and colour filled the screen, but Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Bucky.

“Hey,” he whispered, catching Bucky’s attention. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Bucky’s smile was small but genuine. Bucky looked back at the screen, and Steve followed along. He’d always known getting Bucky back and well would be hard, but moments like this made it all worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Tony's planning strategy was inspired by Leverage 4.16 'The Gold Job'


End file.
